


the beauty of the blistering sky

by kiwikero



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biological Warfare, Blood and Violence, Death, Dystopia, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-23 07:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13782384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikero/pseuds/kiwikero
Summary: When the world goes to shit, it's all Louis can do to keep himself alive. That isn't enough, though, when his mother and siblings are back in their hometown, and he has no way of getting in touch with them. He plans to make the journey alone, but a twist of fate brings him Harry, a stranger with a kind smile in a world that's forgotten what kindness means.Together they set out for Doncaster, and along the way Louis finds out that, with people like Harry around, there might be hope for the world yet.





	the beauty of the blistering sky

**Author's Note:**

> This was so interesting to write! I'm incredibly grateful to letsjustsee for hosting this challenge. All of her prompts (and mood boards) are brilliant, and I can't wait to see some of the other fics!
> 
> Thank you so much to my dear Kelly for helping me brainstorm and doing dramatic readings when I was stuck, thank you to Emmi for holding my hand, and thank you to KK for the Britpick and beta (DOUBLE THREAT). I couldn't finish anything if it wasn't for my wonderful friends. <3
> 
> The title comes from the song "Bullets" by Archive. 
> 
>  
> 
> Come touch me like I’m an ordinary man,  
> have a look in my eyes,  
> underneath my skin there is a violence,  
> it's got a gun in its hand.

The city was quiet. It was an eerie kind of silence, one that spoke of death and loss, of failure and defeat, and Louis had not yet grown used to the emptiness in the air.

He never noticed exactly how many sounds there were until they stopped entirely: planes, cars, the low hum of music from inside vehicles or seeping out of ear buds. The chatter of people walking down the street and the clinking of cutlery inside restaurants.

It was all gone.

Louis shouldered his backpack, glancing around nervously as he made his way down the road outside of his block of flats. Just because it seemed safe didn’t mean that misfortune wasn’t lurking just out of sight. That was, after all, how everything happened in the first place.

Looking back, Louis wondered how no one saw it coming. The bricks the world was built on had been crumbling away, one by one, and no one noticed until the foundation was gone and the remainder of humanity was clawing its way out of the resulting pit. One day everything had seemed fine, and the next…

Louis shivered, wrapping his arms around his torso as he walked. The corner shop wasn’t far, and there was still time until sunset, but lately even stepping outside his flat made his heart race. He had seen things from his window that made it hard to sleep at night, made it quite clear that monsters could hide in plain sight just beneath human skin. And the blood…

It had been two weeks, though, and Louis was running out of food. Everyone was, which was why things were starting to feel so desperate. Louis had exhausted his own food supply, then moved on to raiding the pantries of neighbours who never came home. The electricity had gone after the first day, and nothing perishable lasted long after that. He wasn’t planning on staying in Manchester much longer, but he would need provisions before he left the city. It would be a long journey, and food was certain to be even more scarce along the way.

He was not the first person to raid the corner shop, that much was clear. The glass was smashed from the front windows, the door hanging from its hinges like a broken limb. It was dark inside, like every other building on the street, and Louis didn’t see any signs of movement from within.

Good.

He took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway, glass crunching beneath his trainers. It was a disaster inside, shelves toppled and goods strewn about the aisles. A freezer in the corner had long since defrosted, leaking melted ice cream out to a stinking mess on the floor. There wasn’t much left worth taking, but Louis couldn’t afford to be choosy. He pulled off his backpack, unzipping it and stuffing it with as many items as he could carry. Tinned goods, snacks, painkillers, batteries. It was all worth something, either to him or to barter with someone else.

A sound from the other side of the shop caught Louis’ attention. He froze, trying to steady his breathing as he listened. Rustling. Scratching. Louis spun around, one of the cans held aloft to be used as a bludgeon if necessary, but there was no one there—no one human, at least. He nearly laughed as he watched a rat scurry back to a hole in the wall, returning from its own search for food. Louis spared a moment to wonder if it had been successful.

Exhaling, Louis dropped the can into his backpack with the rest of his haul. He returned to his task, gathering anything and everything that might be useful. Once his bag was full, he zipped it closed and slipped his arm through the strap. He had plenty of time to get home before dark, though truthfully the daylight was no safer than the night.

The streets outside were just as empty as he left them. Abandoned cars lined the road, some still filled with the bodies of families who failed to escape. Beyond the pavement, buildings with broken windows stared out into the street with their hollow, empty eyes. The same street that bustled with life a month ago was now cold, dead, and desolate. It was a like a great wound, still fresh and bleeding, and Louis wondered if it would ever truly heal.

Worse than the cars and the buildings, sad reminders of the life that once thrummed through the city, were the bodies. They littered the streets, faces twisted in anguish, horrific reminders of the terror that had gripped the population. Louis tried not to look at them, too afraid to see the face of a colleague or neighbour or friend in the grotesque husks. Sometimes, though, he would catch sight of one, and wonder again why he had been spared when so many others had died horribly.

It didn’t bear thinking about. Louis was a survivor, and this was his life now. He had to adjust, adapt, and do what it took to stay alive. More than that, he had to find out if his family was still alive. That’s why he had to go to them. They were all he had left in the world—assuming they _were_ left—and he would find them or die trying.

The sound of footsteps startled Louis from his thoughts. His heart crawled up into his throat as he stopped, glancing around for the source of the noise. In the beginning, finding someone alive was a small victory, a reason to celebrate. That was before the food started running out. Now, everyone was either infected or desperate, and Louis had seen what desperation could do to people.

A man and a woman stepped out from behind a car, blocking Louis’ route home. His eyes immediately went to their faces, scanning them for signs of the disease, but there was no trace of blood. He sighed in relief, stopping in his tracks and offering a wary smile. “Hello,” he said cautiously.

“What’s in the bag?” the man replied in a gruff voice.

Louis tightened his grip on the strap. “Few supplies, that’s all,” Louis said, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m happy to share, if you need some.” That was a lie—he needed everything he could get. But if it would keep him alive, he’d gladly sacrifice some of his provisions.

“Hand it over,” the woman ordered. Louis noticed she was carrying a crowbar. She lifted it threateningly. “Now.”

“There’s enough to split,” Louis tried weakly, eyes darting around for escape routes. He was still a couple of streets away from his flat, and there was no one to help him if the couple attacked. “We’re all just trying to survive here.”

“Give us the fucking bag,” the man snarled, reaching for Louis. Louis dodged, ducking under the man’s arm and taking off running as fast as he could. He heard the pair running after him, shouting, and he prayed that he was faster. For a moment it seemed he might be getting away—until he felt himself jerked backward as a hand closed around the strap of his backpack, and then the wind was knocked from his burning lungs as he landed hard on the stained pavement.

“Please,” Louis begged, fruitlessly trying to hold onto his bag even as it was wrenched from his grasp. “Please, I’m just trying to stay alive.”

“You should have tried harder,” the woman sneered, raising the crowbar. Then the world went black.

 

*

 

It started with America.

The whole country seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. It fell silent, like a blanket had been thrown over the entire continent. There were rumours of bombings, or of a solar flare wiping out all communications, but no one had any answers.

Then the military got involved. Cities were locked down, all planes grounded. No one was allowed in or out of England. Schools were closed and universities cancelled classes and instructed students to stay home. Soon there were soldiers in every major city, patrolling the streets and keeping watch at all times. Anyone even remotely ill was taken away for quarantine. Still, civilians were told not to panic. “Just a precaution,” they said.

Once people started dying, though, panic was inevitable.

Some died faster than others, the weak and the elderly, suddenly collapsing in the street in a pool of blood. They were the lucky ones. Doctors said that whatever it was caused blood vessels in the body to swell and burst, until the afflicted person died from blood filling their body and suffocating them. It sounded horrific, but by the time symptoms presented it was too late. With no cure or vaccine, it was too late for everyone.

They said it was biological warfare. A disease released in targeted countries to decimate the population. No one knew who released it, or why, and with every major communication system failing it seemed as if the answers would never be found. Whoever it was, they were winning, and Britain was dying. Even the military trucks, the ones that once cleared the bodies and dropped off emergency rations, had stopped coming. Now there was no food and the bodies were piling up in the streets.

It seemed like a nightmare. God, how Louis wished it was a nightmare. He woke up every morning hoping that he would look out his window and the world would have righted itself—that there would be children playing outside, lights on in the office building across the road, the chirp of his mobile as a mate texted him to make plans. Instead, each day the world only grew darker and more desolate than before, and Louis had no choice but to keep living. He never stopped hoping, though, that he would wake up.

_Wake up._

“Wake up!”

Louis’ eyes shot open. The first thing he noticed was that he was not in his bed, or even his flat. Instead, he was laid out across the back seat of a car, knees bent to allow his body to fit. He tried to sit up but the pain in his head forced him back down, his eyes slamming closed to combat the wave of nausea.

“You’re awake,” a deep voice said, breathy with relief.

The sound of another voice so close had Louis flinching away, pressing himself against the seat as he fought to open his eyes in search of the other person. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, even while injured, but his head felt as if it might split if he kept his eyes open any longer. Still, he squinted against the pain, trying to focus on the blurred figure leaning between the front seats.

“Who are you?” Louis demanded, willing his vision to clear. This man didn’t sound like the one who had jumped him, but they could still be involved somehow. For all Louis knew his attackers had decided to kidnap him and this new man was responsible for guarding him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the blurry man said, and Louis could just make out him holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I found you on the ground and patched you up. It looked like someone had done a number on you. My name is Harry.”

Frowning, Louis brought a hand to his head. Instead of a wound, he felt a large bandage on his forehead. Now that he was more aware, he inspected the rest of his body for damage. His t-shirt had been torn open, revealing a mass of bruises across his chest and ribs. A few abrasions had been covered with plasters, red skin peeking out around the edges of the bandages. “How long was I out?” he asked quietly, suddenly realising how close he had come to dying. How cruel would it have been to survive the outbreak only to be murdered?

“Couple of days,” Harry replied, shuffling around for something in the front footwell. He reached back, pressing a bottle of water into Louis’ hand. “Here, drink this. I have some painkillers too, hold on.” He produced a small packet of pills, popping a few out and handing them through the seats.

“Thanks,” Louis said, taking the water and the medicine and quickly swallowing both. It was stupid, perhaps, to be so trusting after what he had been through, but he had nothing left of any value and someone had clearly tended to his wounds. Louis had no reason to think Harry meant him any harm. “I’m Louis,” he said, once he had downed half the bottle of water.

“Nice to meet you, Louis,” Harry said, reaching back again to shake Louis’ hand this time. “What were you doing out there by yourself, anyway?”

Louis took another sip, the clouds in his mind slowly dissipating the longer he was awake. “I was getting supplies,” Louis explained. “There’s a corner shop not far from here that still had a few things left. I was getting ready to go look for my family.” He recalled the backpack filled with everything he had just collected. “This couple attacked me. Stole everything I had.”

“Where does your family live?” Harry asked softly.

His vision clearing, Louis took a moment to study the man in the front seat. He was around Louis’ age, with short wavy hair and high cheekbones smudged with dirt. His full, pink lips were pulled into a frown, emphasising the set of his structured jaw. “East of here, in Doncaster,” Louis explained. “I have to know if they’re all right.”

“And you were going to go alone?” Harry asked, passing Louis another water bottle once he had finished the first. “No, you need to drink,” Harry insisted when Louis tried to protest. “You’re not going anywhere if you die of dehydration.”

Louis sheepishly accepted the second bottle. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Why are you helping me? You could have left me to die instead of wasting your water and supplies on me.” He gestured to the bandages peeking out between the ragged edges of his shirt.

Harry’s frown deepened. “Preserving human life is never a waste, Louis,” he said. “As soon as I figured out you weren’t infected, I knew I had to help you.” His lips twisted into what could almost be considered a smile, his eyes dropping to the colourful mess of contusions on Louis’ torso. “Sorry about your top, by the way. I didn’t want to try getting it over your head. I can give you one of mine.”

“It’s fine, wasn’t that attached anyway,” Louis laughed, the sound startling him. Truthfully, it was the first time he had laughed in days, and he had begun to forget what it sounded like. “I have more at home. I should be getting back there anyway, make sure no one raided the place while I was gone.” He winced at the thought of strangers breaking into his flat, taking the last bit of food he had managed to save. He would have to start collecting provisions all over again, and that might be precious time his family didn’t have.

“Where do you live?” Harry asked, interrupting Louis’ thoughts. He had got so used to being alone, to being wary of other people, that carrying on a conversation was taking more effort than he remembered. Louis wasn’t even sure he’d spoken this much in the past two weeks combined.

Louis squinted out the window, trying to get his bearings. The light outside was waning, and with no streetlights it meant that sunset was a lot darker than it used to be. He recognised the Chinese restaurant close to campus, the one he often ordered delivery from, though now it sat broken and empty, victim of the first wave of hysteria like every other restaurant and grocery in town. “A few roads over, on Newcastle Street,” Louis replied, trying not to wonder if he’d ever have a fresh, hot meal again. He had taken so many things for granted, back then. He would give anything to appreciate his old life one more time.

“We should be able to make it there before dark,” Harry said, rummaging in the footwell once more. He surfaced with a messenger bag and a cricket bat.

“We?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows. The movement pulled uncomfortably at the wound on his head, making him wince.

Harry shot him a look. “You’re in no condition to be going anywhere alone. Besides, it’s not like I have big plans for the evening,” Harry said dryly, gesturing to the interior of his car. “Besides, a night indoors sounds like heaven right now.”

“Now you’re sleeping over?” Louis balked, amused by Harry’s boldness. “Is that the fee for your bodyguard services?”

Harry laughed. “It’s only fair, you’ve stayed two nights at mine,” he teased. He reached for the door handle. “You ready? We’re losing daylight.”

Louis thought about it. Surely if Harry was going to hurt him, he wouldn’t have wasted water on him. Besides, Louis’ flat was more than big enough for two people, and the company would be nice. “Yeah, all right,” he said, reaching for his own handle. His muscles protested as he got out of the car; two nights in a cramped back seat after being assaulted had left him achy all over.

The air outside was cool, thick with the scent of death and decay. Louis curled his lip, covering his face with the sleeve of his shirt even though it did little to block the putrid smell. There were too many bodies with no one to remove them, and the living weren’t about to risk infection even if it meant disrespecting the dead.

Harry locked his car, a silver Vauxhall Corsa now that Louis could see it. He wondered how long Harry had been living in it, and where he had lived before. Perhaps they had even attended uni together, somehow never meeting until there was hardly anyone left. Louis made a mental note to ask Harry later—for now, they needed to get to safety.

“It’s this way, only a couple of blocks,” Louis said, leading Harry down the road. They stayed close together, each keeping an eye on his side of the street. The shadows grew longer as the sun sank, reaching out for them like phantom hands waiting to take hold and drag them into darkness. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him, not after what happened, but he swallowed his fear and lead Harry to Newcastle Street.

His building slowly came into view, a rust and white structure with balconies jutting from each side. The ground level windows were mostly gone, broken by looters, but the windows of Louis’ second floor flat still seemed to be intact. He couldn’t relax yet, however, knowing that the flimsy lock on his door wouldn’t keep anyone out who truly wanted inside.

The building’s front door was gone, long since kicked down, and Louis stepped through the empty frame. The floor was littered with glass and rubbish that had blown in from outside, but thankfully no one had died in the foyer. Louis knew that some of the flats in the building had become tombs, but at least he didn’t have to step over any bodies on his way to the stairs.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw his door was still closed and in one piece. It might have something to do with the sign he had affixed to it, but he wasn’t going to question his luck.

Harry leaned closed, examining the sign in the dim daylight filtering into the hallway. “‘Infected inside,’” he read, turning a bemused smile on Louis. “You’re a horror movie cliché, you know that?”

“Shut it,” Louis laughed, digging in his pocket for his keys. “It worked, didn’t it?” He let them into the flat, waiting for Harry to pass and quickly locking the door behind them. “Sorry it’s dark, my torch was in my backpack.”

“I’ve got a spare, you can have it,” Harry offered. He pulled a torch from his bag, turning it on and looking around the flat. “Nice place,” he said, stepping through to the kitchen. “You live here all by yourself?”

Louis followed him, lighting the candle he kept on the dining table. “I do now,” he said. Harry rounded on him, a question in his eyes, so Louis continued. “My flatmate went out one day and never came back. He must have got it.” He didn’t mention that James had gone out to get their share of the rations. Had it been Louis’ turn, perhaps he would be the one missing instead.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, his frown lines deep in the flickering light of the candle. “How long ago was that?”

“A week now,” Louis said, counting the days in his head. It felt like so much longer. The days seemed to drag on with no company. With no hope. “Are you hungry? I have a few things left.” Louis started rifling through the cabinets, hoping Harry would accept the subject change.

He did. “Yeah, sure,” Harry said, setting his bag down on the table and pulling out a few cans. “I brought a few things as well. I didn’t want to impose.”

“Bit late for that,” Louis teased, examining the food Harry had brought. “I’ve got some crackers and mayonnaise packets, fancy some tuna salad?”

Harry moaned. “That sounds almost gourmet,” he said. “What I wouldn’t give for a pizza right now.”

“Or a cheeseburger,” Louis agreed sadly. “Ah, well, tuna salad will have to do.” He pulled a bowl down from the cabinet to mix in. He dumped in the tinned tuna and opened a couple of mayonnaise packets, squeezing them over the fish. He added some pepper and stirred the lot together. Once it was mixed, he carried the bowl and the box of crackers over to the table. “Here we are, the best tuna salad you’ve ever tasted.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Harry said, eagerly taking a cracker and dipping it into the mixture. He popped the entire thing in his mouth in one go, sighing happily as he chewed.

It was bland, and the crackers were a bit stale, yet it was delicious nonetheless. Perhaps it was the food, or maybe the company, but either way it was the best meal either of them had eaten in days.

After dinner, Louis showed Harry around the rest of the flat. He stopped outside the second bedroom, pushing the door open. “This was James’ room. You’re welcome to sleep here, might be a bit more comfortable than the sofa.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, eyes immediately falling to the bed. He nearly groaned at the sight. “Oh, I never thought I would be so happy to see a real bed.”

Louis laughed. “Strange how much we used to take for granted, innit? There are probably some pyjamas in the dresser if you want to change.” He watched Harry explore the room, examining the photos on the walls and peering inside drawers. “Make yourself at home.”

Harry turned to face him with a wide smile, and Louis could just make out a dimple deepening the shadow on his cheek. “Thank you, Louis. I really appreciate this.”

“You saved my life,” Louis said simply. “Least I can do is offer you my dead flatmate’s room.” It was a macabre thing to say, but Harry smiled nonetheless. “Anyway, I’m going to bed. My room is just next door if you need anything. Night, Harry.”

“Good night,” Harry said, turning to dig through the drawers in search of clean clothes. Louis knew how lucky he was, to still have his flat full of clothing and books and even a bit of charge left on his iPhone. There was no internet anymore, but at least he could allow himself a few minutes of Wooden Block Puzzle now and then. His battery would drain eventually, and with it would go his music and the library of photos of his family and friends. He would take it with him, though, in the hope that someday in the future there would be electricity once more. If something had happened to his family, he was going to need those pictures.

Louis skipped playing a game tonight, too exhausted to want to do anything but fall into his bed. He still planned on leaving town soon, and he didn’t know how many nights in a real bed he had left. He stripped off his torn and bloody clothing, discarding the tattered remains of his shirt and pulling on soft, worn pyjama bottoms and a white tee. He was running out of clean clothes, but luckily holing up in his flat every day wasn’t exactly messy. Once he set out on his journey it would be a different story.

Ready for bed, Louis crawled under the covers and curled up on his side. His window faced the street, and where once he saw only light pollution from windows and cars and streetlamps, now every star in the sky was visible. It was beautiful. He fell asleep counting the stars and not feeling alone for the first time in a long while.

 

*

 

After a few days, most of Louis’ bruises were starting to fade and the gash on his forehead was knitting itself closed. With Harry’s help he had ventured into a block of flats down the road to gather as much food as he could, and even found a new backpack in the process. It wasn’t his normal style, but it was big enough to hold the things he would need to take with him on the road.

“What is that?” Harry asked when he saw it, eyebrows raised. He was coming out of a different flat, his own bag much fuller than it had been before.

Louis grabbed the straps of his new backpack, adjusting it on his shoulders. “Needed a new one, didn’t I?” Louis sniffed. “Come on, we should go.”

“It’s _lavender.”_

“It’s _functional.”_

Harry grinned, showing all of his straight, white teeth. “Well, I think it’s lovely,” he said, batting his eyelashes.

“Oh, shut it.”

It had become quite comfortable, life with Harry. They ate together, taking turns trying to mix their limited supplies in new and exciting ways. They sat and talked, shared stories and jokes, and filled an entire notebook with noughts and crosses and hangman. Louis found a deck of cards and taught Harry how to play poker, and Harry showed Louis a few magic tricks. It was almost easy for Louis to imagine them living out their days there, letting the world end around them outside the safety of the flat. His family was still out there, though, and he couldn’t put his own selfish needs above theirs.

Louis woke up the next morning with the sunrise. It had been a week since his attack, and he had procrastinated long enough. He had supplies, his wounds were healed, and he had no more excuses not to start his journey. He crawled from his bed for the last time, dressing himself in jeans and a t-shirt. He stuffed a few extra clothes in his bag, clean pants and socks and long-sleeved shirts in case of cooler weather. It should be warm enough, but the nights were already getting colder, and Louis didn’t know where he’d be sleeping. He shoved his feet into trainers and, with one last look around his room, went to say goodbye to Harry.

“You’re leaving?” Harry asked, a spoonful of baked beans halfway to his mouth. “But I made you breakfast.”

Harry had indeed set out an extra plate, covered in baked beans and slices of a tomato they had been lucky enough to find on one of their excursions. Louis raised his eyebrow at it. “You made cold beans and tomatoes?” Louis asked incredulously.

“Yeah, ‘slike, a Partial English breakfast,” Harry said, giggling at his own joke.

Louis smiled despite himself, pulling out his usual chair and taking a seat. “An improper fry-up,” he added. Harry laughed even harder, and Louis couldn’t help joining in.

They ate in silence, Louis’ impending departure weighing down the air between them. He wanted to stay so badly, to keep hearing Harry’s terrible jokes and seeing his smile and pretending the world wasn’t going to shit outside. Then he thought of his mum, and his little siblings—the newest twins were just babies, God—and knew that he had no choice.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” Louis said once he finished eating. “There’s still water and lots of housing nearby so you can find food. Has to be better than living in your car.”

Harry chewed at his lip, considering. “That’s really kind of you,” Harry said eventually. “But I sort of thought that when you left, I’d be going with you.”

Louis nearly choked on his water. “Beg pardon?” he spluttered, staring at Harry through watering eyes.

“It’s just that, I have nothing left, Lou,” Harry said, spreading his hands in front of him. “You’re the only person I know right now, and I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want you to be alone, either.”

“Harry,” Louis said, his voice soft. “I have no idea what’s out there. It could be worse, outside the city. I can’t ask you to face that with me.”

“You didn’t ask,” Harry replied.

It was tantalising, the thought of having a friend at his side for what lay ahead. It made the path seem less scary, not having to face it alone. It was an awful risk on Harry’s part, however, especially for someone he had only known a week. “You’re sure?” he whispered, waiting for Harry to come to his senses and decide to stay.

Harry smiled, reaching out to rest a warm palm on Louis’ arm. “I’m certain,” he said firmly. “We’re going to find your family. Let’s head back to my car and then we can go.”

“Okay,” Louis agreed, turning his arm and sliding it to where he could grasp Harry’s hand. “Take whatever you think we might need. I’ll finish packing up the food.” He gave Harry’s hand a squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. The entire time he was shoving tins of food into his bag, Louis couldn’t help but smile.

For now, at least, he wasn’t alone anymore.

 

*

 

Harry’s Corsa was right where they’d left it, miraculously unscathed. Louis was certain they would return to find the windows broken out and everything inside gone, but it didn’t look as if it had even been touched. _Perhaps because there isn’t anyone else left,_ Louis thought, a sick feeling twisting in his gut. He watched Harry unlock the door, but instead of taking anything out he chucked his bag into the back seat.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked, shoulders slumping. Had Harry decided to stay behind after all?

Harry climbed into the driver’s seat, looking up at Louis. “Are you coming or not?” Harry asked, gesturing to the other side of the car.

Louis looked at the car and back to Harry. “What?”

“Well, it’s a long way to Doncaster,” Harry said, picking out the right key and putting it in the ignition. “Thought we might drive as far as we could.”

“I thought you didn’t have any petrol!” Louis exclaimed, the wheels in his mind spinning. “I thought you ran out and this is where you ended up.”

Harry smiled sadly. “This is just where I stopped, mate. Still enough petrol to get us out of the city.” He turned the key, the engine growling to life after a few complaints. “Now are you coming or not? We’re going to attract some unwanted attention fairly quickly.”

Still reeling at the new information, Louis hurried around to the passenger door and let himself in. His bag joined Harry’s in the back seat and he slid inside, quickly shutting the door and locking it behind him. No sooner was he settled than they were off, cruising down the road like they were two teens on a joy ride through the city. It was exhilarating, being in a car again, and knowing it could be the last time allowed Louis to savour the experience.

Harry turned on the CD player, Adele’s voice crooning from the speakers. “All the radio stations have gone, but I have CDs,” Harry said, pointing to the visor above Louis’ head. “Cigarette lighter works too, if you need to charge your phone.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Louis exclaimed, twisting to retrieve his iPhone and the charging cable from his backpack. He plugged it in but left it powered off, hoping to let the device charge as long as possible. The thought of being able to see his pictures for a while longer filled him with a renewed sense of hope. He would find his family, see their faces in person, and then when his battery drained again it wouldn’t matter.

The route was clear of traffic, but there were cars stopped all over the road. Some had presumably run out of petrol, others were wrecked as a result of the driver being one of the infected and dying a horrible death behind the wheel. Louis stared at each car they passed, trying to see if he recognised any, and was relieved every time he didn’t. He wondered about each one, where it had been headed. Had they been on their way to the hospital, hoping for a cure that just didn’t exist? Were they rushing home to see their families one last time before the disease took hold? Or, worse, were they running away to avoid spreading it to their loved ones?

“You all right?” Harry asked, interrupting Louis’ thoughts.

Louis startled, tearing his eyes away from the cluttered road to look at Harry. “Yeah. It’s just…” He blew out a breath, trying to collect his thoughts into words. “Do you ever wonder why we survived?” he asked.

Harry’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Every day,” he admitted, and Louis could hear something like guilt in his voice. They didn’t talk anymore after that, instead letting Adele provide the soundtrack to their exodus.

They made it nearly an hour before the petrol ran out, the engine stalling and falling silent as Harry navigated the car over to the shoulder of the A616. Louis had been dozing against the window, but woke up at the feeling of the tyres dipping off the edge of the road. “Where are we?” he mumbled sleepily, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Tankersley,” Harry replied, putting the car in park and turning to offer Louis an apologetic smile. “This is our stop, unless you know how to siphon petrol.”

Louis snorted. “I’ve seen it in films, does that count?”

They both decided that it didn’t.

Tankersley was a small village, lush and green and full of old, stone buildings. From where they had stopped Louis could see what once was a hotel, standing tall against the surrounding scenery. There were no lights from the windows, but that didn’t mean that enterprising survivors weren’t hiding inside, being careful not to draw too much attention to themselves.

Harry followed Louis’ gaze, looking at the hotel across the motorway. “Think we should see if there are any rooms available?”

“It’s probably not safe,” Louis sighed, as much as he loved the idea of a big, comfortable hotel bed instead of a night in the car. “We might get jumped the second we step through the door.”

“Well, lucky for you, I am an expert at sleeping in this car,” Harry boasted, puffing his chest out. “Er, not usually with an extra person, but we’ll manage.” He checked the clock on the dash. “We have hours before the sun sets, though.”

Louis frowned. It was too early to eat again, and the car wasn’t an ideal spot for playing cards. He wasn’t about to waste any of his precious battery life to play games, either. “All right, then,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning his body toward Harry, back against the window. “Guess we’d better find something to talk about.”

“Like what?” Harry asked, copying Louis’ posture and pulling his knees up to his chest.

Louis thought about it. In the days he and Harry had spent together, they never spared much time talking about their lives Before. In fact, Louis knew very little about Harry other than he liked to sing and was terrible at hangman.

“Where are you from?” Louis asked. “Earlier, you said you stopped in Manchester. Where were you coming from?”

Harry’s expression darkened, lips pressing together into a thin line. “Erm, over in Cheshire.”

Louis noticed the tension filling Harry’s usually relaxed face, the lines carving themselves into his forehead like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. “Oh.” Louis replied, shifting uneasily. “Why Manchester, then?”

“Just where I stopped for the night. I suppose I was hoping to find somewhere that hadn’t been hit,” Harry said bitterly. He turned to look at Louis, his expression softening. “That’s when I met you. I couldn’t leave you alone.”

“What if I had been infected?” Louis asked. The question had bothered him for awhile now—what had made Harry put his own life at risk for someone he didn’t even know? Someone he had no obligation to help?

“I watched you, looked for symptoms,” Harry replied. His smile tilted into something sad, though not quite a frown. “I’m starting to think I’m immune to it, anyway.”

Louis wanted to know more, but Harry changed the subject before he could ask. “Are you hungry? I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind something to eat.”

“Sure,” Louis agreed. He wasn’t terribly hungry himself. Something about Harry’s sudden change in demeanour had his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He reached for his backpack, digging out some granola bars and handing one to Harry.

The day passed slowly with nowhere to go and very little to do. Louis was afraid to ask any more questions about Harry’s past, lest he completely fracture the already fragile mood between them. At one point Harry pulled a battered paperback from the centre console and read aloud from it to pass the time. The sound of Harry’s voice, steady and rumbling, was nearly enough to lull Louis to sleep. After they tired of that, Louis turned on his mobile, using a few precious moments of battery life to show Harry photos of his mum and his siblings. “We’ll get you to them,” Harry promised, though they both knew there was no guarantee they’d find anyone alive.

They planned their movements around the sun, preparing for bed at dark so they could set out at first light. Daylight was no guarantee of safety, but it would make it easier to observe their surroundings and keep an eye out for potential attackers. Harry wasn’t kidding about being good at sleeping in his car, and with Louis’ help they folded down the back seats and made an almost comfortable nest beneath the hatchback. It was cramped, but with the temperature dropping at night that would only help them stay warm. They curled up in their makeshift bed, perhaps the last time they would be sleeping somewhere sheltered for quite some time. All the doors were locked, and with no streetlamps the stars painted a beautiful picture through the dusty back glass of the Corsa.

“Good night,” Harry whispered, close enough that Louis could feel the warmth of his breath. Louis murmured a reply, though he laid awake staring at the sky long after Harry started snoring beside him. He kept replaying the past in his head, every time he had fought with his sisters or missed a call from his mother. Every friend he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate, every comfort he would likely never know again. He wished for a day, an hour even, to go back and make it all right, to truly enjoy his life and his family as it was one last time. But it was too late for all that; the world had ended with a whisper after all, and there had been no warning it was coming.

Louis finally fell asleep hours later with tears cooling on his cheeks and his heart aching in his chest.

 

*

 

The sun was up by the time Louis woke the next day. He squinted at the brightness overhead, trying to remember where he was as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. _Right,_ they had slept in the back of Harry’s car. The space next to him was empty, and Louis sat up in search of Harry.

“Good morning,” Harry said cheerfully from the driver’s seat. He passed back a water bottle, reminding Louis of the first time they had met. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Louis replied, tilting his head to work out the sore muscles in his neck. He took a swallow of water, nearly choking on it when a projectile hit the side of his face. He picked up the object, raising his eyebrows at the brightly coloured packaging. “Skittles for breakfast?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s calories, isn’t it? We have a lot of ground to cover today, figured we could use the sugar.”

“My mum would be livid,” Louis chuckled, tearing open the packet and pouring some of the sweets into his palm.

“Well, I promise not to tell her when we get there,” Harry replied seriously, though when Louis caught his eye Harry was smiling. It made Louis smile too. He thought about Harry’s words all through ‘breakfast,’ wondering if the other man had any idea how much it meant to Louis that Harry never once spoke of Louis’ family as if it might be too late.

According to Harry’s watch, it was around 10 AM when they finally packed up their meagre belongings and left the relative safety of the car. Harry took the keys and locked the doors behind them before turning to Louis, as if one day he might wander back to find the Corsa right where they left it. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, though the thought of being out with no shelter, nowhere to run, was terrifying. Still, it was keep going or turn back, and as long as there was a chance his family was alive then turning back wasn’t an option. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Harry gave the car a farewell pat, and then they set off down the road. There was no lack of vehicles littering the path, but Harry and Louis tried not to get too close lest someone was hiding inside. They also weren’t entirely sure how long the infection could survive after the host passed away, and neither of them particularly wanted to find out. Passing through residential areas was even worse: sure, some houses had been destroyed, with missing windows and doors kicked in, but others looked downright inviting. It was hard not to peer through the curtains to see if by chance there was still life inside, carrying on despite the word decaying around it. Louis knew the answer to that—if there was anyone alive, chances are they wouldn’t be for long, and it was far more likely that he would see something gruesome instead. Louis didn’t look.

“Tell me about yourself,” Louis requested, desperate to think about anything else besides the images in his head, ones dominated by blood and death.

Harry turned his head, studying Louis as they walked. “What do you want to know?” he asked, already on the defensive. Harry seemed to hate talking about anything other than the present, Louis noticed, as if his life Before didn’t exist.

“Anything,” Louis replied with a shrug. “All you’ve said is that you came from Cheshire. Did you go to uni? Have any hobbies? Or have you always been this mysterious?”

Harry’s mouth tugged into a smile. “Not always, no. I was in uni, planning to go into law.” He shook his head. “Not much call for that anymore, I suppose.”

“There might be again someday,” Louis insisted. “If we survived, surely others did too. That means there’s a future.”

“I hate to break it to you, mate, but you and I can’t exactly repopulate the Earth,” Harry said wryly.

“Oh, shut up,” Louis replied, smacking Harry’s arm with his empty water bottle. “What did you do for fun, then?”

“I liked to read, and sing.” Harry’s smile widened, his eyes glazing as he pictured whatever memory was playing out in his mind. “When I was a kid, I would write these plays and make my sister Gemma perform them with me. She hated it.”

That was the most personal thing Harry had told him to date. “You have a sister?”

The moment shattered and Harry’s face fell, smile morphing into a frown as if his lips felt betrayed by the expression. “Enough about me. What did you want to be before all this?”

Louis knew to quit while he was ahead and allowed Harry to change the subject again. “Drama teacher,” he said softly. “Drama is the only thing that got me through school some days. I wanted to give that same reason to other kids.” His heart ached for that future, a far simpler one where he had a job and bills and a roof over his head. All the troubles that came with that life seemed so insignificant now.

“There will be a need for that again one day too,” Harry said softly, reaching over to brush the back of his hand against Louis’. “And, hey, look on the bright side.”

Louis tilted his head. “And what is that?”

“At least now we don’t have to pay back our student loans.”

“Oh my God,” Louis laughed. Harry just grinned at him, and the conversation between them didn’t seem quite so stilted after that.

 

*

 

They stopped frequently, both to drink water and survey their surroundings for danger. There didn’t seem to be anyone around at all, infected or otherwise, and it made Louis’ skin crawl.

“It’s like they all just... disappeared,” he said, tucking a water bottle back into his bag. They were just outside the small village of Darfield, and Louis’ feet ached even after only being on the road for a few hours.

“Not even as many bodies here, are there?” Harry asked. It was true; it was as if the population of Darfield all had the decency to die behind closed doors. Or, perhaps, they found a way to survive. But where were they?

Louis looked around, trying to find some sign that there had ever been people here at all. His eyes scanned the road ahead, and something in the distance caught his eye. “Do you see that?” he asked, already moving toward the object.

“See what?” Harry called after him. “Louis, be careful!” The sound of footsteps behind him let Louis know that Harry was following.

It was a lamppost, nothing exciting, except that someone had scrawled a message in marker on the metal surface. There was a square cross, the kind that one would use to mark a hospital, and beneath it was a single word in capital letters: SAFE.

“Harry, look,” Louis said breathlessly, running his fingers over the markings. “What do you think it means?”

Harry leaned closer, scowling at the writing. “It’s probably just graffiti,” he said, glancing around nervously. They had gone further into the village than was probably wise, and their position wasn’t exactly defensible if there were people lurking in the shadows. “Come on, we should get back on the road.”

Louis looked at the writing one more time. Surely it had to mean something. Someone had put it there for a reason. “Look, there’s another one,” Louis announced, pointing to the next lamppost down the street. This one had an arrow pointing across the road, seemingly to the squat white building on the corner. Sure enough, someone had spray painted that same cross on the door.

“Louis, stop!” Harry shouted, but Louis was already crossing the street toward the building. It was a pub, the windows boarded up and the sign hanging crooked over the door, but at one point in time somebody wanted people to know they were safe there. “You don’t know what’s in that building, it could be a trap,” Harry said, grabbing Louis’ arm before he could go any closer.

“It might not be!” Louis insisted, pulling his arm out of Harry’s grasp. “What if there really are people inside? What if my family’s in there?”

Harry scoffed. “You did not stay alive this long by being this stupid. I think we should head back to the road and keep going.”

Louis shook his head, refusing to give up hope that maybe, just maybe, other survivors were banding together, and that they had found some. “I have to see,” he said, and before Harry could stop him Louis turned and rapped his knuckles on the wooden door.

There was a tense pause, the world standing still as Louis and Harry waited to see what would happen. Then, with a groan of disuse, the door opened just a crack.

“Are you infected?” a female voice demanded from inside.

“No,” Louis said quickly. “No, we’re clean.”

“Let me see your eyes. Step closer, but if you try anything I will gut you in five seconds flat.”

Louis held up his hands and inched toward the door, leaning closer with his eyes open wide to show that his sclera was free from blood. “See?” he said, pulling Harry over to show his eyes as well.

The door opened wider, a woman cautiously poking her head out. She was pale, with dark hair coaxed into a messy braid and a smattering of freckles across her nose. “You armed?” she asked. When they shook their heads, she opened the door wide enough that they could step inside. “All right, you can come in.”

“Hold on,” Harry said, grabbing Louis before he could go any further. “We need to see your eyes too. Can’t be too cautious.”

The woman nodded, reaching up with boney fingers to spread her eyelids and reveal white, unblemished sclera. Satisfied, Harry released Louis’ arm and they followed the woman inside.

One the door was bolted closed, her demeanour seemed to change completely. She smiled, the expression making her look ten years younger. “I’m Sam,” she said, holding out her hand to Harry and Louis in turn.

“Louis, and this is Harry,” Louis said, pointing as he said their names. “What is this place? Are there others here?”

Sam nodded. “A few. They aren’t going to be happy to see new arrivals, though. Our supplies are limited as it is.” She smiled apologetically. “Don’t take it personally.”

“We’re not staying long,” Harry piped up. “We’re just passing through.”

Louis frowned at him. “And we have some food to share, don’t we? Perhaps in exchange for a safe place to sleep tonight.” He dug into his backpack, revealing the assortment of junk food tucked inside.

“We have to put it to a vote, but I think your odds are pretty good,” Sam said, eyes going wide at the sight of the sweets. Louis handed her a packet of Skittles, and she handled it like it was made of gold. “Come on, then, I’ll introduce you.”

The place had been a pub when it was open, and Louis could think of worse places to spend the end of the world. Sam led them into what used to be a dining room, though many of the tables had been cleared away to leave an open space in the centre of the floor. A variety of people lounged about in the booths and on the floor, playing cards and reading and chatting by candlelight. A fireplace across the room provided a gentle glow, and Louis could see a pot rigged up over the flames for cooking. The idea of a hot meal made his stomach clench, and from the smell he guessed they already had something cooking for supper.

“Hey everyone,” Sam called, catching the attention of the few people not already studying the newcomers with curious eyes. “This is Harry and Louis. They want to know if they can stay with us for a night.” She held up the bag of Skittles. “They’re willing to share some provisions with us in trade.”

Another woman moaned from her spot on the floor. “Do they have any Jelly Babies? Because I would kill for some Jelly Babies.”

Harry glanced at Louis. “Erm, I think we have a bag or two,” he said. Louis nodded in affirmation.

“They can stay,” the woman on the floor said. “All in favour?”

It wasn’t unanimous, but it was close, and once their presence was accepted Sam invited them to make themselves at home. Louis handed over a packet of Jelly Babies, and dug a few more sweets out of his backpack to share as well.

“Here, lads, have some water,” a man with a thick Irish accent said, pushing a glass into each of their hands. “I’m Niall, it’s nice to see some new faces. Reckon one of these days there won’t be anyone else to come knocking.” He had kind blue eyes and blond hair that was much darker at the roots, like it had been dyed and was growing out.

“Thanks,” Louis said, accepting the glass and taking a sip. He made a mental note to ask if he and Harry could fill up their water bottles before they left the next day. “I’m Louis, and this is Harry.”

Niall grinned between them. “Louis, Harry,” he greeted. “Sam said you’re just staying for the night. Where are you off to?”

“I’m looking for my family in Doncaster,” Louis replied. “I met Harry in Manchester and he was kind enough to accompany me. Are you from here?”

Niall shook his head. “Nah, I came through the Peak District. Met Sam and some of the others pretty soon after everything happened and decided to try and hole up here. It’s worked pretty well so far.” He shuddered. “It was really nasty where I’m from in Cheshire. I had to see if it was any better here.”

Louis glanced at Harry at the mention of Cheshire. His face had gone pale and tight, like the bone beneath was stretching his features uncomfortably. He refused to meet Louis’ eye, staring instead at the wall opposite. “Are there many infected around still?” Harry asked quietly, shifting his stony gaze over to Niall.

“We haven’t had any try to get in for a few days,” Niall said. “I think most of them have either died or will soon. The symptoms get bad pretty quick, and as long as no one new catches the disease, maybe it will go away.” He looked at Louis. “You’re headed to Doncaster? I’ve heard rumours that there’s a shelter like this one set up in the Royal Infirmary. If you’re looking for your family, I’d start there.”

Something like hope stirred in Louis’ chest, though he was quick to tamp it down lest it be for nothing. “Thanks, I will,” he said quietly. It was hard not to be optimistic, not when there might be a group like this one in his hometown. His mother was a nurse—perhaps she had taken his siblings to the hospital straightaway and they stayed there, safe and waiting out the infection. Maybe they had even figured out a vaccine.

“Cool. So d’you have any more sweets?” Niall asked hopefully, and Louis had to laugh at the childlike excitement in the question. He gave Niall a roll of Polos, much to the Irishman’s delight, and even Harry cracked a smile at the sheer joy Niall expressed at receiving the mints.

They were invited to share dinner with the group, rice and tinned vegetable soup. It was hot, though, and the warm broth chased a chill from Louis’ bones that had been there since the power had gone out. It was a simple meal, but filling, and there was enough to go around. Louis was curled up in one of the booths, bowl licked clean in front of him, nearly asleep when something was set down on the table and startled him awake. “What’s that?” he mumbled, dragging his eyes open.

“Tea,” Harry said with a smile, pushing a steaming mug across the table. “I thought you might like some.”

Louis was upright in an instant, reaching for the mug and drawing it to him. He inhaled deeply, not bothering to stifle his groan. “Oh my god,” he sighed, savouring the smell. “I haven’t had tea in ages.”

Harry’s smile grew bigger as he sat down on the other side of the booth, an identical mug in front of him. “Me neither. Too bad your flat didn’t have a fireplace.”

“You’re telling me,” Louis said, blowing across the surface of the tea to cool it. “Next place I get will have one. That way I’ll be able to heat food and water the next time the world ends.” He took a sip of his drink, eyes fluttering closed as it washed over his tongue. He preferred it with milk, but he’d missed it so much that even black it was a treat. “Thank you,” Louis said softly. “Are you all right? You’ve seemed a bit off since we got here.”

Harry scratched at a chip in his mug with his thumbnail. “Yeah, it’s just… Groups of people make me antsy,” he admitted. “I know Sam said that everyone here is safe, but it would just take one person getting infected and trying to hide it and then everyone would be dead.”

“Thought you were immune?” Louis asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I think I am,” Harry countered. “Doesn’t mean I want to test that theory. And even if I am, you might not be,” he added.

Louis quirked one side of his mouth up in a teasing grin. “Aw, Harry, are you saying you’d be sad if I died?”

“You’re literally the only friend I have left in the world, you wanker,” Harry laughed. “Yes, I think it’s safe to say I would miss you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re mine too,” Louis replied, voice warm and eyes soft. “I swear I wasn’t trying to put either of us at risk. I am going to check for my family at that hospital, though I understand if you want to part ways once we get there.”

Harry scoffed. “Are you kidding? I have to stick around long enough to meet your mother,” he said. He was doing it again, speaking as if he knew for certain that Louis’ family was still alive.

“Thank you,” Louis whispered, wanting to reach out and take Harry’s hand where it rested atop the table.

“For what?” Harry asked, though he didn’t leave Louis time to answer. “Drink your tea before it gets cold,” he ordered, though his eyes looked suspiciously wet at the corners.

Louis raised his cup in salute, then took another sip of his tea. He didn’t know how he had got lucky enough to find Harry at the end of the world, but he thought he might be thankful for his new friend until the sun burned out in the sky.

 

*

 

When Louis awoke the next morning, it was easy to forget he wasn’t back home in bed. The pub had a few bedrooms on the second level, not many, but one had been given to Harry and Louis for the night. They had curled up on opposite sides of their double bed, bellies full and bodies still warmed from the tea and the fire. It was far more comfortable than the back of Harry’s Corsa, and Louis thought that, maybe if there was nothing left for him in Doncaster, this wouldn’t be a bad place to return to. He’d fallen asleep with a voice in his head scolding his negativity, one that sounded a lot like Harry’s.

Harry had curled himself around Louis in his sleep, an arm thrown over Louis’ middle and a foot tangled with Louis’. His face was smashed against the pillow, mouth slightly open and trailing a string of drool out onto his pillowcase. It was adorable, and Louis almost wanted to let him sleep a little longer, but they had been warned the night before that breakfast waited for no one. They couldn’t risk missing a hot meal, not when they didn’t know when they would next get one.

Breakfast turned out to be porridge and more tea. It was amazing how the simplest foods, ones Louis had taken for granted like rice and porridge, were such a treat now that food was scarce. He ate slowly, savouring it, but eventually it was time to say their goodbyes and set out once more.

Niall gladly filled Harry and Louis’ empty water bottles after breakfast, handing each one back and happily accepting the bag of crisps Harry passed him in return. “You lads be careful, you hear?” Niall cautioned, worry written in the wrinkles over his brow.

“We will be,” Louis promised. “Harry and I make a good team; we’ve got each other’s backs.”

“Good,” Niall said with a nod. “It’s only about eleven miles to Doncaster from here, you should be able to make it by nightfall.”

Louis grinned. He was sad to leave his new friend, sad to say farewell to soft beds and warm food, but his family was waiting. He could be in his mother’s arms tonight, could kiss his sisters and brother goodnight and fall asleep soundly finally, finally knowing they were safe. “You guys be careful too. Maybe we’ll meet again one day.”

“I’d like that,” Niall agreed, shaking first Louis and then Harry’s hands. They waved goodbye to Sam and the others and stepped out into the rainy morning, both jumping a little at the sound of the door slamming and locking behind them.

“Not long now,” Harry said, turning to smile at Louis. “Are you ready for this?”

“Let’s get on with it,” Louis said, and together they made their way back to the main road.

Despite the rain, their walk was largely uneventful. Louis’ feet were still a bit sore after yesterday’s walk, but a good night’s sleep had him feeling refreshed. He was one good shower away from feeling normal again, and told Harry as much.

“It’s showering now,” Harry replied cheekily. “Which is good, because you were starting to smell a bit.”

“Hey!” Louis replied with a pout, gently shoving Harry so that he stumbled on the next step. “You aren’t exactly smelling fresh yourself.”

Harry laughed, wrinkling his nose. “You’re probably right,” he agreed, and stopped in his tracks to lift his arms to the sky. He started singing, some classic rock song that Louis didn’t know the name of, patting down his hair and armpits like he was in a shower instead of on an empty public road.

“You’re ridiculous!” Louis shouted over his shoulder, giggling as Harry continued his charade behind Louis. “I’m going to leave you here all by yourself!”

“You’d miss me too much!” Harry shot back, giving Louis a grin before he hurried to catch up.

Louis sighed. “Would I, though?” It was Harry’s turn to shove him, and the uncoordinated move nearly sent them both toppling into the ditch and left them giggling and breathless.

The road narrowed as they walked, taking them from village to village, past golf courses that were starting to look rather shaggy and rows of shops with broken out windows. There were fewer cars on the road, here, the route less congested than it had been back in Manchester, and they didn’t see any other people out and about. Louis was grateful they weren’t having to fight off other survivors trying to take their supplies, like the couple who had jumped him before he met Harry, but at the same time it made his heart ache that they didn’t see any survivors at all. He hoped that, like in Darfield, there were other shelters hidden in each village they passed, a small but hopeful group huddled inside a pub or school or church, waiting for their chance to rebuild the world. Louis wanted that day to come.

The rain began to let up as the sun climbed overhead, making the world below seem to sparkle. Louis had to stop for a moment and admire the beauty of it; the road stretching ahead, endless and empty; the farmland spreading out to either side, green and lush, the land almost mockingly alive even with no one left to tend it; and, above, the perfect arc of a rainbow, curving overhead like a promise that there were still good things yet to come.

“Wow,” Harry whispered beside him, pulling Louis out of his reverie. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Louis nodded, still staring up at the rainbow cutting across the sky. “Makes you forget that the world has gone to Hell,” he murmured. Louis dug in his bag, pulling out his iPhone and powering it on long enough to take a photo of the scene before them. If he survived this, he wanted to remember this moment, that even in the worst of times there was still beauty to be found. He put his mobile away and turned to ask Harry if he was ready to go, only to find Harry watching him with a small smile playing on his lips. Maybe it was the scenery, or maybe it was the fact that Louis was so, so close to home, but in that moment Harry looked beautiful too, wet and tired yet still smiling, and Louis desperately wanted to reach for his hand.

“Come on,” Harry said quietly, breaking the spell. “We’re nearly there. Just a couple more hours to go.”

“Right,” Louis agreed, trailing just slightly behind Harry as he led the way down the road. He couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to touch him, wanting to hold Harry’s hand in a show of unity in an otherwise broken world, but instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and watched the rainbow until it faded from the sky.

They stopped for lunch at the edge of a farm, the barn faded but intact. A farmhouse sat close by, the windows glaring at them like dark, empty eye sockets. There were no animals to be seen, and Louis wondered what had happened to them.

Harry handed over a bottle of water and a packet of crisps from his bag. “I would kill for a good sandwich right now,” he lamented, tearing open his own crisps.

“I’d be happy with just the bread,” Louis said. “But I could really go for a Subway.”

“New plan: as soon as electricity is restored, we’re opening a Subway,” Harry decided. He looked down at the crisps in his hand, sighing as he popped a handful into his mouth.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? You’re planning on sticking around even after this is all over?”

“You’re stuck with me,” Harry said once he swallowed. “You’re never getting rid of me now. You’ll wish someone else had shoved you in their back seat.”

Louis laughed. “Ah, but yours was so comfortable!” He tilted his head, considering Harry. “Won’t you want to find your family, though?”

Harry’s smile slid off his face, his eyes seeming to reflect the gloomy sky above. “My family is gone, Lou,” he said roughly, like he had to scrape the words from his throat.

“Oh, Harry,” Louis said, putting a hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m so sorry. You’ve never mentioned it.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s still pretty fresh. I watched each of them die right in front of me. My mum, my stepdad, my sister… One by one they caught the infection, and I waited and waited for it to take me and it never did.” His mouth tilted into a sad smile. “That’s why I think I’m immune. Why else was I spared when the rest of my family wasn’t?”

“I’m glad you were,” Louis replied selfishly. “I can’t imagine making this journey without you. I probably would have died in the street if you hadn’t been there to save me.”

Harry chuckled, though it was low and strangled. “I thought I was being punished. Everyone I loved was taken away from me. I got in my car and just drove and drove because I felt so alone, and I was trying to outrun my pain.” He looked up, his eyes red and wet. “Then I met you, and you gave me a reason to stop running.”

It was impulsive, and risky, but Louis couldn’t help himself. He surged forward, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Harry’s. He cradled Harry’s face in his hands, eyes closed tightly as he waited for Harry to push him away.

Except, he didn’t. It was tentative, but Harry kissed back, his lips parting beneath Louis’. Louis nearly cried with relief. He wanted to do everything for this boy, the one who had lost his own family and then selflessly volunteered to help Louis find his. The one who never entertained the idea that Louis’ family could be gone as well. Harry was a ray of hope in a dying world, and Louis wanted to kiss away every ounce of grief and pain, anything that tarnished his light.

Harry pulled away first, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. “Wow,” he whispered, staring at Louis in wonder. “That… what was that for?”

“I’ve wanted to do it for awhile,” Louis admitted, partly to himself and partly to Harry. “I couldn’t stand to see you looking so sad, and I wanted to make you smile.”

Harry did smile then, one that spread slow and wide across his face. “Thank you. I’ve wanted you to do it,” Harry said shyly.

“Then I hope you won’t mind me doing it again?” Louis asked bravely, leaning in when Harry gave him a small nod.

Their lips never met, though. A sound from somewhere behind startled them apart, both men looking around for the source and leaping to their feet when they found it.

The front door of the house had been thrown open, and a man was stalking toward them with his hands out. He was infected; Louis could tell by lines of dried blood trailing from his nostrils and the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t long for this world, certainly, but that didn’t stop him for zeroing in on the full bags sitting on the ground beside Harry and Louis.

Louis shouldered his backpack and Harry did the same beside him, both backing away from the man. “Don’t come any closer,” Louis warned, hoping his fear didn’t show in his voice. “We’re armed.”

“Bullshit,” the man snarled, still advancing. “What’s in the bags? It’s food, isn’t it? You’re on my property, hand it over.”

“We have enough to share,” Harry said, sounding calm despite the way his nostrils were flaring. “Stop where you are and I’ll give you some.”

The man laughed gruffly, shaking his head. “You’ll give me all of it.” He rushed forward, grabbing Harry’s bag and yanking it hard.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Louis shouted, rushing to help Harry. The man swung around, hitting Louis across the face hard enough to knock him to the ground. He hovered over Louis, his face close enough that Louis could smell the man’s sour breath, could see the burst vessels in the whites of his eyes. He tried not to breathe, praying that was enough to spare him from the infection, and tried to keep the man’s hands from closing around his throat.

Suddenly, with a loud _crack,_ the weight over him was gone. He could see Harry standing over the man, a large rock in his hand. Harry brought the rock down again, then tossed it aside. “Are you all right?” he asked, hurrying over to Louis and pulling him to his feet.

“He was infected,” Louis said, jerking his arm away from Harry’s grasp. “You have to stay away from me, Harry. It’s not safe.” His mind was reeling. He couldn’t believe he had got so close only to die now. “I shouldn’t have let my guard down.”

“Louis, calm down,” Harry pleaded. “You don’t know you caught it. Let’s wait it out.”

Louis scrubbed his hands over his face, eyes widening with fear when his fingers came away bloody. “I’m fucked,” he said wetly, tears starting to fall as he showed Harry his hand. “There’s no way I didn’t get it. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s just a nose bleed,” Harry insisted. “He hit you pretty hard, it’s no surprise. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Is he…?” Louis started, looking over at the man lying unnaturally still in the grass.

“He’s not a problem anymore,” Harry said firmly. “But we should get somewhere safe in case there are more.” He shouldered his backpack and handed Louis’ over. “Come on, let’s find shelter and wait it out.”

Louis nodded dumbly, letting Harry lead the way. The village was called Marr, only a couple of hours outside of Doncaster. Harry tried to grab Louis’ hand, but Louis pulled away and stood just out of reach. If he had been infected, he couldn’t risk passing it to Harry. Maybe Harry wasn’t immune and had just got lucky before. He wasn’t willing to take the chance.

They found their way to a side street lined with residences. There was a row of terraced houses on the left, and the one at the very end had a ‘to let’ sign out front. “There,” Harry said, pointing to the house. “Hopefully if it’s for rent then it will be empty.”

The door was locked, but the window next to it slid open easily enough. Harry scrambled inside and unlocked the door for Louis. “Keep an eye out for squatters,” Louis warned. If they could get inside that easily, someone else could have as well.

Just as they hoped, the house was empty. There was no furniture, but none of the windows were broken and the doors still locked. It was as safe as they were going to get.

Louis felt exhausted. He was drained, emotionally and physically both, and his head was pounding from the blow he had taken. He dropped to the floor, scooting back to lean against the wall. Wasn’t fatigue one of the first symptoms of the infection? He was certain he had it. He was so lost in this thought that he didn’t even realise Harry had gone until the front door opened and closed one more, the lock sliding firmly into place.

“Here, I scrounged up a few things from next door,” Harry said, depositing a few blankets and pillows on the floor next to Louis. “There weren’t any bodies, so this stuff should be safe to use.”

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Louis muttered. “I’ve already been exposed.” He reached for a blanket and pillow, making himself a bed on the floor.

“Stop talking like that,” Harry scolded. “You have to stay positive. I should be dead right now but I didn’t get it, did I? And neither will you.”

Louis didn’t believe him, but he didn’t argue either. He curled in on himself, trying his best not to cry. His nose had stopped bleeding, but he was certain that any moment now his blood vessels would start bursting and he would die. He hoped it would be quick, at least. “How long do we have to wait for the symptoms to show up?” Louis asked quietly.

“With my family, it only took a few hours. If we give it until nightfall, I’d say you’re out of the woods.” Harry pulled another blanket over Louis. “You rest, all right? I’ll keep watch.”

“I won’t blame you if you leave,” Louis murmured, already drifting off to sleep. “I’m not your responsibility.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Harry promised. “Now sleep.”

So Louis did.

 

*

 

It was still light when Louis woke again, the sky clear and blue outside the windows. Louis pushed himself to a sitting position, looking around for Harry.

“You’re awake,” a relieved voice said from across the room. Harry had made a bed of his own, but the bags beneath his eyes and creases of worry across his forehead made it clear that he hadn’t slept yet. “How are you feeling?”

“Still alive, so far,” Louis replied darkly. “What time is it?”

Harry climbed to his feet, crossing the room to kneel in front of Louis. “It’s about five,” he replied. “Here, let me see your eyes.” He leaned in close, scrutinising first one eye and then the other. “Still clear,” he sighed, sitting back on his calves. “You have really pretty eyes, did you know that?”

“Thanks,” Louis said, forcing a smile. “I’m sure the blood really brings out the blue.”

“I said they’re clear, you prick,” Harry laughed, rolling his eyes. “Here, are you hungry? I was just about to find something to eat.”

He held out a bottle of water and a granola bar, but Louis pushed it away. “Not yet. Save it, no sense feeding me if I’m going to die anyway.”

“You’re not dying, Lou,” Harry said, setting the food and water down next to Louis anyway. “You would have shown some symptoms by now. I think you’re in the clear.”

“We still need to wait,” Louis said stubbornly, refusing to get his hopes up until he knew for certain. “I’m not going to take food that you could have instead.”

Harry sighed, retreating back to his bed across the room. “Well, while you’re waiting to die, you can keep watch for a bit while I sleep.” He rolled himself up in the blanket and turned to face the wall.

Louis sighed. He knew Harry was just trying to help him. But he couldn’t, in good conscience, take food that Harry might need to survive should he be left on his own. He didn’t want Harry to be upset with him either, though. He extricated himself from his cocoon, picking up his blankets and padding over to Harry. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” he said, settling down next to him.

“What is it?” Harry asked, sitting back up to look at Louis.

“I’ll eat, if you promise you’ll do something for me. _Just in case,”_ Louis said, interrupting Harry before he could protest Louis’ pessimism.

“Okay,” Harry warily agreed.

Louis pulled out his phone. “If something happens to me, please take this to my family. There are photos of me on there, in case they don’t have any. You can use the pictures I have of them to find them. You don’t have to, but I can’t stand the thought of them never knowing what happened to me.”

“Of course I will,” Harry said, not taking any time to think about it. “I’ll find them, Lou, but you’re going to be right there with me when I do.” He smiled, reaching out to nudge Louis with his foot. “Now go eat your granola bar.”

“Yes sir,” Louis replied, feeling lighter than he had in quite some time. He retrieved the water and granola bar, but returned to his spot next to Harry to eat. He tried to ignore the way Harry watched him the entire time, not subtly at all, with a smile on his face.

 

*

 

“Louis, wake up,” a voice said insistently. Louis could feel his body being shaken.

“Shit, I fell asleep,” he groaned, forcing an eye open to look around. The sun had set, leaving the house dark. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to be keeping watch.”

Harry laughed, sounding a bit hysterical. “Lou, it’s after dark, don’t you see? You’re well past the time any symptoms would show up.” It was too dark to see clearly, but Louis could swear there were tears in Harry’s eyes. “You’re safe, Lou.”

Louis’ jaw dropped as Harry’s words sunk in. “I’m safe?” he asked meekly, scarcely daring to believe it. “I’m not going to die?”

“No, you’re not,” Harry said with a sob, and then he was pulling Louis to his body and pressing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.

For a brief, stunned moment, Louis didn’t move, his brain working overtime to process what was happening. It didn’t take long for him to catch up, though, and as soon as he did he was kissing back. He fell back onto the blankets, pulling Harry with him, and a jolt of electricity skated through his body at the feeling of Harry growing hard against him.

“Lou,” Harry moaned, breaking the kiss and rutting against Louis’ thigh. “Can we… Is this okay?”

“Yes, please,” Louis begged, pressing more kisses over Harry’s jaw. “I want this, please.”

Harry nodded, eyes closed as he lined up their bodies. “Me too,” he sighed.

As heated as the moment was, they managed to take it slow. Long, lazy kisses turned into exploring each other’s necks with their mouths. T-shirts were shed, and pale skin became a canvas for teeth and tongues, red and purple brushstrokes blossoming across the surface. Hands curiously roamed over firm muscle and soft fat, careful near Louis’ fading bruises and firmer over the swell of Harry’s arse. Their trousers and pants went soon after, revealing even more uncharted territory, and neither man wasted any time familiarising himself with the other’s body.

Harry was the first to take things to the next level, reaching down between them and wrapping a hand around Louis’ dick. The contact had Louis groaning, throwing his head back and thrusting into Harry’s hand. “God, Harry,” he gasped. It had been so long since anyone else had touched him, and longer still since he’d touched himself.

“Feel good?” Harry murmured, stroking gently up and down Louis’ shaft. He carefully pulled back the foreskin, his thumb swiping over the leaking tip of Louis’ cock.

“So good,” Louis whined. “Please.”

Harry didn’t ask for clarification, but he must have understood because he was stroking Louis faster now. It wasn’t going to take long, and Louis couldn’t resist licking a stripe over his palm and reaching for Harry’s dick as well. Harry gasped at the touch, his rhythm faltering as he took a moment to appreciate Louis’ hand on him, but soon they were establishing a rhythm that had both of them moaning with syncopated frequency.

“Not going to last long,” Harry whispered, dropping a line of kisses along Louis’ collarbone.

“It’s okay, me neither,” Louis whispered back. He could already feel the tension coiling up his thighs and into his stomach, pressure threatening to burst like water through a failing dam. “You can come, love.”

A few more stuttered thrusts were all it took before Harry was painting Louis’ stomach in come, white lines quickly smeared as Harry continued to work over Louis’ cock. Harry surged up, sealing their mouths together, and dipping his tongue inside, and he held the kiss even when Louis teetered over the edge into his own orgasm.

They lay curled together and panting, sweat and come cooling on their skin, and Louis couldn’t help the tears that fell from the corners of his eyes. Maybe it was being faced with his own mortality, or perhaps it was just the relief of a good orgasm after going without, but he figured it had more to do with truly not feeling alone for the first time since everything happened. He wanted to find his family, wanted that more than anything, but if he didn’t…

If he didn’t, he still had Harry, and that would be enough.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Louis murmured, blinking as Harry carefully wiped away the lines of tears streaming down his temples.

“I hope so,” Harry replied, ducking his head to press a chaste kiss to Louis’ lips. “Because I know I’m falling for you.”

They fell asleep that night holding each other close, feeling young and alive and full of hope that maybe there was a future for them after all, but no matter what happened neither of them would be facing it on his own.

 

*

 

When the sun rose the next day, it was over a world that felt less fragile somehow. Louis slowly blinked awake, stretching luxuriously before cuddling into the warmth of the body next to him. He was sore from sleeping on the floor, and desperately needed a wash, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much when Harry held him just a little bit tighter before he woke up as well.

They ate a simple breakfast of slightly stale crackers and tinned corned beef, before cleaning themselves up and dressing. Harry neatly folded their blankets, more out of habit than necessity, as if someone else might come along and delight in finding neatly folded bedding. Perhaps they would.

There was no sign of rain as they stepped outside, the sky clear and dotted with harmless clouds. Everything seemed fresh and new, as if the rains had washed away the disease and sin and left everything clean in its wake. Louis breathed in deeply, savouring the smell of it, made that much more glorious by the fact that yesterday he wasn’t sure if he’d even live to see another day.

“Only a few more miles to go,” Harry said. “Do you know the way to the hospital?”

Louis nodded, smiling. “I do. Can’t say I’ve ever walked there before, though.”

“Sorry, there aren’t any Ubers available,” Harry joked, smiling so broadly that it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Well, I suppose walking it is then,” Louis laughed. This time he didn’t hesitate to take Harry’s hand, threading his fingers through Harry’s and giving them a gentle squeeze. Harry squeezed back, and with a quick kiss they were back on the road.

Each familiar landmark they passed had excitement building in Louis’ chest. There was the road his nan used to live down. There was the Domino’s he and his friend went to after footie practice sometimes. There was the grocery shop where his sister Lottie got her first job.

There were more cars on the road here, but all of them were stopped and seemed to have been for quite some time. Louis didn’t dare get close enough to peer inside, unable to bear the thought of finding a relative or a childhood friend. He didn’t voice his fears, yet Harry seemed to understand anyway as he carefully maneuvered them down the congested road leading into the city.

The could hear the rush of water as they drew nearer, the River Don still coursing along and paying no heed to what was happening past its banks. Louis peered down the embankment, half expecting the water to be teeming with bodies, stained red with blood, but it was the same colour it had always been, nothing more sinister than sticks and leaves caught in its current and tugged downstream. In front of them a bridge spanned the river, and on the other side was home. The hospital was just a few short turns away, and hopefully inside it was his family. It was strange to see his hometown so quiet and still, no sounds from cars, no smoke rising into the air from chimneys and factories. It was like looking at a photograph, too still and flat to feel real, but the wind still blew through the trees and the occasional bird still flitted between defunct power lines.

“Well, Harry, welcome to Doncaster,” Louis said, gesturing over the river. “This isn’t how I pictured bringing a boy home, you know.”

Harry laughed. “Well, as long as I get to meet your mother, I’m sure it will all work out.” He reached for Louis’ hand, clasping it tightly in his own.

Louis just smiled at him, at the man who had come to mean so much to him in so short a time. He turned from Harry to the city he grew up in, taking a deep breath as he took it all in. Beside him was the future and before him stood the past, both changed from how they’d been but perhaps not irreparably so. Overhead, the sun hung heavy and bright, continuing to shine down no matter what was happening below, and Louis tilted his face into it defiantly. He wasn’t sure what lay at the end of the road, what—if anything—they would find when they got to the hospital, but he felt a sense of peace knowing that he and Harry would face it together. There was a future, there was hope, and it was personified in green eyes and a dimpled smile. With one more lingering glance at Harry, Louis took the first step forward onto the bridge, and side-by-side they strode head on into the unknown.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can find a rebloggable fic post here. I hope you enjoyed it, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!


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